Destined to Fall
by LadyKelina
Summary: The Last of the Jedi faces a terrible trial and fails, but a greater challenge awaits him. [Luke Skywalker AU] R
1. Prologue

_**Destined To Fall**_

_**by Lady Kelina**_

_**Rated: T**_

_**Summary: The Last of the Jedi faces a terrible trial and fails, but a greater challenge awaits him. **_

_**(Luke Skywalker AU)**_

_**AN: All Characters are the property of George Lucas (of course). Please review with any constructive criticism.**_

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_Prologue:_

_Among the Clouds_

A piercing scream fills the air. I don't even realize that it is my voice crying out. My cry is caught up in the whipping wind, before dying out into the oblivion that surrounds me. Pain shoots through me, and all I see is the empty air that once held my saber hand. The dark figure presses closer, and in this moment I realize I am going to die.

I fold my injured limb against my chest, willing the pain to subside. How could I have failed? I promised I wouldn't fail. Time freezes, and my mind strays, revealing what has happened. Memory comes to the forefront, and in an instant, I am reliving all that has happened.

_"The Force is with you, but you are not a Jedi, yet." Vader had warned me, but I had struck out against his warning. I was proud and arrogant, like Yoda feared, and for that I would die. _

_"Release your anger, only your hatred can destroy me." No, my anger, my hatred could only destroy myself. I tried to remember what Obi-Wan and Yoda had taught me, but controlling my anger was growing difficult. We fought within the Carbon freeze chamber, and when he fell, I thought, despite all the odds, I might defeat him. _

_Then I found the shadowed room, where Vader was waiting for me. Against the silhouette of a large window, we fought. In the midst of the battle, debris was sent flying about the room. I knew it was Vader, but I couldn't concentrate to deflect the attack. The debris collided against me before crashing through the window. A strong gust occurred as air poured from the room. I was pulled through window and into the wind tunnel of the inner spiral._

_I caught myself on a ledge some ways down, and pulling myself back on to the walkway, I realized that I couldn't win. Despite that, I knew I had to try. Obi-Wan was counting on me. Yoda was counting on me. Even Leia and Han were depending on me. I had to defeat Vader. _

_Creeping along the walkway, I found my way to another control room, and the sith was again waiting for me. Our blades clash against one another, and while he seemed to gain strength, my own waned. Moving out of the control room, he pressed forward, driving me back toward the walkway's edge. I felt my feet fall from underneath me, as I collapsed to the ground. "You are beaten," Vader announced, pressing his saber toward my face. "It is useless to resist. Don't let yourself be destroyed, as Obi-Wan did." _

_I lashed back at him, knocking his blade aside. Getting to my feet, I continued to fight. I managed to strike my enemy's shoulder, yet Vader still advanced. I was running out of ground. Stepping out on to the ledge, I knew I was completely cornered. My saber in one hand, I tried to strike back._

_That was when it happened. In one swift move, it was over. I cried out, but it was too late. I knew that I had been defeated. I crumpled back, holding my wounded arm against my chest. Moving further away from the platform's edge, I knew my attempt was useless._

That memory brings me abruptly back to the present. The wind is still whipping around me. The pain is still there, yet what I noticed most is the constant shadow of my enemy. Though his blade rests passively at his side, my instinct takes over. I move along the thin ledge, knowing that I'll never survive this.

"There is no escape," the dark voice taunts me, saying what I have already realized. I move back, as far as I can, knowing the fatal blow will strike me at any moment. I reach the edge of the post, I can go no further without falling into an endless abyss.

"Luke," Vader says my name, making my blood boil. "You don't realize your importance. Join me, I'll complete your training."

"I'll never join you!" I roar, rage filling my words. I could never join the sith. I will never become what killed my father.

"If you only knew the power of the dark side," Vader continues. "Obi-wan never told you what happened to your father."

"He told me enough," I counter, clinging to the post with my only hand. "You killed him," I growl, as if the very words would drop Vader where he stands.

Vader's hand is outstretched, reaching for me. "No, Luke, . . . I am your father."

At that moment, I don't feel anything. I'm numb. _No, it can't be. Obi-Wan would have told me. _"No," I defiantly swear. "I don't believe you."

Vader is unmoved by my doubt, "Search your feelings, you know it to be true."

Unwillingly, I obey, and I find nothing but the damning truth. In that moment, the naïve farm boy is gone, leaving only a memory in his place. If this monster is my father, what am I? Anger swells within me. I know it's true. Somewhere in my very soul, I know, but I will never accept it. I won't give into this. "No," I shout over the whipping wind, "My father was a Jedi, and you're a monster. You are nothing like my father."

Vader says nothing, he doesn't have to. The silence eats away at me, as what I have been told sinks deeper into my mind. I want to reject it, but truth is sound and can never be denied. I can't doubt the fact, I can only run from it. I look below me, conceding that I would rather die than face this bitter reality for another moment. "I'll never join you." My hatred rises. Vader makes one last offer, but I don't even hear. I release the post and plunge into the gaping wind tunnel beneath me.

A flash of thought fills my mind, some ill boding premonition that I can't quite identify. I don't feel anything as I fall. The light drains from my world, leaving me in darkness. What I know is consuming my soul, and I realize how I am eagerly awaiting the end. Death would be a refuge. Everything I believed is a lie, and there is no hope now. I've failed. All that is left for me now is the bitter truth, the truth of my destiny.


	2. Awakening

_Awakening_

I'm alive. There must still be some purpose for me in this force-forsaken galaxy. I was rescued, returned to my friends, but so much has changed. I have never felt so alone. Sitting there in the entirely white room, I flex my hand, hearing gears and motors. It's not my hand. It's just a machine.

I'm onboard a rebel medical frigate, floating somewhere in space. It's been a standard week since Bespin and I'm still not ready to remember all that happened. I've succeeded in pushing the truth far from my mind. _I'm Luke Skywalker _I tell myself. _I will become a Jedi . . . like my father._

There is a gentle hum and wisp of air as the door slides open. Soft footsteps move toward me, but I don't get up. Sitting on the floor, I look up at her, Princess Leia. Other than the medical droids, she's been my only company. I notice that she looks tired, yet she's still holding her usual stern expression. Her brown hair is tied back, and she's wearing a simple gray dress. When she looks at me, her eyes soften, and she smiles slightly.

"Are you all right?" she asks. She has asked me this same question every day for the past week.

"Yeah," I say, giving her a brave smile. I don't feel like talking about me, or what happened on Bespin, so I change the subject. "Has Lando found Han?"

Leia shakes her head, "No."

Another pang of guilt hits me, Han is yet another person that I have failed. Obi-Wan, Yoda, Leia, hell, I don't know anyone that I haven't let down. Finally, I say, "Don't worry, Leia, we'll find him."

She nods, bravely, "I know we will."

"In the meantime?" I ask.

"The rebel fleet is regrouping," she says moving toward the far side of the room. "I'm needed back at High Command." Suddenly she turns back to me, "What will you do?"

I look back at her. I know what she wants me to say, but I can't give her that answer. "I don't know."

Her brow furrows, and she looks back at me with an expression that I understand perfectly. It is the expression of a friend who wants to help but knows there is nothing they can do. She doesn't understand. She can never understand. How could I ever explain that our greatest enemy, the man I have hated for over three years, is my father.

She stands there studying me, as if she's trying to read my mind. I look away, gazing out the large window behind her. I know that I can't stay here any more. There's no reason to fight, I have nothing left to believe in.

"I'll let you get some rest," she says half-heartedly, before exiting the room.

Then I'm once again left alone. I clench my eyes shut, trying to stretch out through the force. _Ben_. Silence.

Stiffly, I rise. I take in my surroundings, which have not changed much since I first arrived. This place never held any comfort for me. Comfort, Solace, I doubt those things really exist. There is only truth. The only choice is acceptance or denial. There is no consolation, it is not the way of life. Yet, I can't let this bitterness eat away at me. There is a part of me longing to go on, to keep moving. Despite that I have no desire to keep fighting, a part of me will never give up. All that is left is to decide. _What do I do now?_

I think back to Dagobah and Yoda's teaching, but I can't consider returning, not after I've failed. I have to figure this out on my own. I have to solve this myself. _What was that premonition I felt when I fell down the reactor shaft? Is my destiny to fail as my father did, as Yoda fears?_

I put my mechanical hand to my head, rubbing my throbbing temple. These headaches just won't go away. I decide to get some rest like Leia suggested. I lie on the cot for a while, but sleep alludes me. It isn't long before I give up trying.

Pacing the floor, the same dark thoughts keep circling back to me. In an exhausting effort, I keep pushing my fears aside, refusing to confront them. _Stars, how could things get so complicated? _

I need to clear my head. The truth is I've needed to clear my head for the past week. I turn back to my project, my lightsaber. I lost the saber Obi-Wan gave me, so now I must construct my own. I don't really mind, I suppose. I love working with tools and machines. I've always been very good with mechanics, and fixing things always makes everything seem simple.

For a while, it seems to work. I feel calm. There's nothing else in the galaxy, nothing else to think about. Then my thoughts spin again, as I consider the reason that I must construct a new lightsaber. In fit of frustration, I throw the unfinished weapon aside.

I turn away, slumping against the wall. Sitting on the floor, yet again, I gaze out the window. The scenery never changes, just stars. My gaze moves to the cot with the tangled white sheets and rumbled pillow. Sleep is a refuge, but these thoughts will never let me find that rest. I haven't slept all week. I let my head fall back against the wall, praying to the force that this will end.

Suddenly I was back in the reactor shaft, that odd forewarning taking over my thoughts. It's dark and malevolent, reminiscent of the cave on Dagobah. Vague images pass across my mind's eye, sand-covered plains, a thousand voices, fire and then darkness.

My eyes fly open and I'm back in my chamber aboard the medical frigate. I draw deep breaths, willing a sense of calm to wash over me. It doesn't. Instead of finding peace, I feel worse. The vision or dream or whatever it was is still in my mind. It was exactly what I felt in the reactor shaft, yet clearer and somehow more ill boding, more menacing. Restlessness sets in, and I rise from where I was sitting. Running my hands through my hair, I know that I can not stay here, not for another moment.

I gather up what belongings I have, shoving them into a pack, before slinging the strap over my shoulder. I can't get out of the chamber fast enough. Entering the hall, I move down the corridors. Though attendants and droids pass me along the way, no one says anything to me, and I'm grateful for that. I don't have time to explain, I just have to leave . . . which means I should avoid passing Leia's chamber. If I were to see her, I might not be able to escape. She wouldn't let me.

I reach the hanger bay without a problem. I find Artoo and ask the deck officer to ready my ship. He gives me a questioning look, but he does as I've asked. Before I know it, I'm climbing in the cockpit of my X-wing. It is at this moment that I realize what I'm doing. I feel a surge of guilt. _I'm sorry Ben, Yoda . . . Leia._

The engine roars to life, and for some reason, I find it comforting. Running my hands over the controls, I doubt my decision but only for a moment.

This is something I have to do.

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**A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers. Manda(Sammi), Still Running, ga ga fu, WizardWriter86, iluvfanfics9312 and of course, Stelmaria. Your feedback was great, and I truly appreciate it!**


	3. The Last Thing

_The Last Thing_

I almost forgot what the twin suns of Tatooine felt like, and I still don't know why I'm back here. After all those years of dreaming for a chance to get off this rock, who would have thought I'd come back? I've been gone three years, but I guess when you feel lost, it's only natural to go back to the beginning, back to the last thing you're sure you did right.

I reach the old homestead, stopping the borrowed land speeder some distance away. The place is vaguely familiar. I know I'm at the right location, but the garage and home are disheveled and nearly unrecognizable. The remains were obviously raided by sand people.

With a deep breath, I gather my courage, exactly in the same way I did three years ago, yet somehow different. Three years ago, I was a naïve farm boy, racing home and hoping against all hope that my family had somehow survived. Now, I'm wiser. I know that hope, no matter the odds, is often futile. There is only the force, yet somehow that doesn't comfort me. If all that decides the future is fate, what does that mean for me? If the will of the force controls our destiny, then my father was doomed to turn. What about me? What do the powers that be have in store for me?

I move my gaze over the desolate scene. It's a depressing sight, yet at first I don't see the ruins. All I see is the homestead as it once was. Something about the familiar memories of growing up comforts me. Then images of the young boy fade away, and I see the damage of the Imperial Storm Troopers and the bitter remains of my home.

_I looked up at Ben, "There is nothing for me here now."_

I told Ben all those years ago, that I wanted to go with him. After losing everything, I was ready to become a Jedi and learn the ways of the Force. Not much has changed since then, I suppose. There's still nothing for me here, and yet I feel compelled to search. What am I looking for? I don't know.

I pass the garage. It's little more than pieces of wall and ash. Anything of value that could have been saved, I am certain the sand people found. I move to the subterranean courtyard, the heart of our home beneath the surface level. Moving down the stairs into the crater of a yard, I feel the temperature drop slightly. I don't think anyone but a native of Tatooine could appreciate the small bit of relief that the subterranean yards can provide.

I make my way into the kitchen unit, passing the dining area. It's the site of the arguments I had with Uncle Owen. There were too many to count, but they were always about the same thing, my future. He wanted me to stay here and be a farmer. Though I will never admit it out-loud, I sometimes wonder if he was right. Maybe I never should have left.

The kitchen is barren, anything of use has already been taken. The air feels musty in here, thick from the heat and lack of cooling units. I move along back toward the bedchambers. I come first to my own. It feels like walking into fog. Everything that was once familiar feels shrouded. My old cot, the refresher unit, it all seems familiar but somehow different. One of my ship models is smashed, the rest are missing. I'm not surprised. All the projects I was working on are gone too.

There's nothing left here except memories. I don't mind, really. I knew this would happen when I left. Besides, I never had anything of sentimental value, nothing that could tell me about my past. For that sort of thing, I must look in the old chamber of my aunt and uncle. If anything could explain this, explain what happened, what my aunt and uncle never told me, I will find it in that room.

I move cautiously into the chamber. Going to the closet unit, a part of me is waiting for Aunt Beru to come rushing into the room, scolding me just like when I was a kid. The closet door slides open, and nothing appears out of the ordinary. There has to be something, some relic of the past that will at least give me a clue.

The few valuables have been taken, and as I begin to wonder where else I might look, I notice a wooden box on the highest shelf. Gently I remove it. It must have been too plain to attract attention from the raiders. Sitting on the floor, I remove the lid, slowly and deliberately. Setting it aside I stare at the contents.

Mostly, there is ash and dust. My eye catches something, and sifting through the box, I find three holos. All three are dated, and I take the oldest out first. Activating the device, a portrait of Uncle Own and Aunt Beru's wedding is displayed. I gently run my fingers through the image, but it's only a hologram. I realize how much I miss them. They were my only family, and I've lost them.

The next holo offers no help. It's a portrait of Aunt Beru, holding me as a baby. Far in the distance is the fading image of Obi-Wan. This is not new information, but the holo stops me for a moment. I realize now how real everything was. Obi-Wan truly delivered me here all those years ago, and in all those years, I never saw him or my parents.

I pick up the last holo, hoping it will have some clue, but even before I activate it, I know what this picture is. It's of me, the day I won the young pilot's competition. Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen have fake smiles. Now, I know why. It's wasn't that they weren't proud of me, as I had thought back then. The fact was, they knew I was following in my father's footsteps and that terrified them. They knew what Anakin Skywalker had become.

Frustrated, I throw the holos aside. They have done little but bring up useless memories of the past. I reach for the box to return the holos to their place, but as I lift the box, something shifts inside it. Reaching inside, I pull out a forth and final holo. It was covered by the thick ash and sand, so that I hadn'teven notice it before.

It's dated older than the first three, and for a moment, my heart stops. This could be it. This could be the clue I've been looking for. Clenching my eyes shut, I activate the device. Slowly I open my eyes and see something I never expected.

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**A/N: Thanks again to my wonderful reviewers. Please keep reviewing. You guys are great.**


	4. Beyond the Shadows

_Beyond the Shadows_

Lazily, I open my eyes. The suns are rising, and already the heat makes the air feel thick. I sit up and let my gaze move out the window, giving me a perfect view of the courtyard. I spent the night in my old home, and in doing so, I have finally been able to sleep.

Rising stiffly, I stretch. The hottest part of the day is hours away, but I need to seek refuge from the suns. Isn't that all I need . . . refuge? Isn't that what I left in search of? The moment I consider this, a dark perception come to mind. I can never find refuge. If I am destined to fall like my father, then there is no where I can run to.

I shrug my shirt over my head and shoulders, and then I pull on my boots. With a sigh, I feel the haunting memories of the past several days creeping up on me. I force myself to push those maddening thoughts aside.

The empty feeling returns, and I decide that I can not stay. So I gather the few belongings I have brought with me, including the last of the holos. With one last look, I leave the homestead far behind, making a feeble promise that I will never return.

I end up here, in Ben's old house. It's still as small as I remember. It's weather torn and full of memories. This is where it started, and this is the choice that changed my destiny forever.

_Nothing ever changes, _I remember whining. I was such a fool, but now I wish that I had been right. I wish I had been content to let things remain dull and uneventful, at least then there would have been no pain.

I sit down, and after a moment, I lift the last of the holos from my pack. I have already spent many hours staring at the image, and even before I activate the device, I know what I will see. In a flash, the image once again appears before me. I don't see anything new.

It's an odd image, if you don't understand it. There's Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru standing in the background. Next to them is an injured man in a hover chair. I don't recognize him. In the foreground are two more people that I don't recognize by sight, but I know who they are.

The first is a woman, beautiful. She looks a bit like Leia, and there is no doubt in my mind that this is my mother. Seeing her face makes me wish I had known her. How would things have been different if she had survived, if she had raised me? Would I have known the truth sooner? Would she have told me about my past? Maybe things would have been different, maybe none of this would have happened, if only I had known her.

I once again mull the "what ifs" through my mind. I struggle with the mixture of emotions that occur when I see my mother's face. There are so many questions, and all I'm left with is regret, sorrow and dread.

The second person I know is a younger man with blond hair, dressed in dark clothes. This is my father. He's dressed in the robes of Jedi from the ancient order. Kneeling before the grave stone, there is a look in he eyes that I understand perfectly. It is an expression of anguish.

While this holo gives me more insight into my past than I could have ever hoped, it raises more questions than it answers.

I grew up with this image of my father, I imaged him as a hero. I saw him as a star pilot, despite what Uncle Owen said. He'd said my father was spice navigator, and as I child, I believed it. As I got older, I knew I had to have inherited my piloting skills from someone, and I credited it to my father. I imagined my father to be a good man, an honorable one.

When I found out my father was Darth Vader, that image was shattered. The good I had pictured my father to be was replaced with an image of evil, of darkness. The image in the holo before me shows me what I had always believed my father was. It shows a good man who had been through much.

My father was more like me than I am willing to admit.

How did this happen? How did a good man like Anakin turn into that monster? If the greatest jedi could become a sith, what was to stop me from falling?

I deactivate the holo and drop it back into my pack. I rub my head, and I hear myself talking to the walls. "Why didn't you tell me, Ben? Why didn't you tell me?"

I rise, pacing the room. "You knew didn't you? You said the force controls our destinies, and you saw what he became. What happens to me now?"

Of course, the only answer is silence.

I snatch up my pack and leave Ben's house, without ever looking back. The land speeder carries me away, toward Mos Eisley. I think I could use a stiff drink.

The pub is just as I remember, brimming with the greatest assortment of smugglers and criminals, years ago, I may have been intimidated by the scum that fill this place, but the lightsaber at my side and the complacency in my soul dissolve any fear I might have had.

Standing at the bar, I order a strong drink. The bartender glances at me oddly, but he hands me a glass filled with a dark blue liquid. It tastes sour and dry, but I finish it in a single swig. The bartender looks at me, and I nod, lifting the glass. In an instant, the glass is refilled. I nurse this drink, sipping the liquid and letting the bitter taste linger in my mouth.

I find myself looking down at the half empty glass, when hand claps against my shoulder. I find myself face to face with a fearsome looking stranger. An odd grin crosses his face, and I distinctly smell Corellian Rum on his breath. "I know you," the man mumbles.

"I don't think so," I say, jerking my shoulder away from his grasp.

"Oh, but I do," the stranger says, snatching my arm in a tightening grip.

"What do you want?" I ask, as I strongly consider drawing my saber.

"You are going to go," the man mutters.

"What?" I glare back at him.

The stranger lets out a dry laugh. "You want to know the truth, boy? You want to know what fate your doomed to? You have to go beyond the shadows."

The drunk sounding like a philosopher was probably the most disconcerting thing I had encountered so far this evening. Besides, how did he know what I was thinking? How did he know those were the questions that has plagued me for days? "What the hell?"

The stranger grins and takes a swig of his drink. "That's right, Skywalker. To hell. You have to go between the shadows."

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**_Hey guys, I apologize for taking so long to post this. I went away on break and failed to mention it. I'm back now and updates should be more often. Thanks so much._**

**_Lady Kelina_**


	5. Sand in the Wind

_Sand in the Wind_

I release a breath that I don't even remember holding. A million questions flood my mind, each clamoring for attention. All of the confusion in my head is contrasted by my silence. Finally, the stranger speaks again, "Ease up, great fool."

I shake my head and follow his gaze. Unknowingly, I've been crushing the drink cup in my mechanical hand. Embarrassed, I set the badly bent mug down on the bar counter. The stranger beside me doesn't let the silence linger. "Why is it, Skywalker? Why is it that folks always want the answer to be handed to them, but when someone gives them the solution, their brain shorts out?"

"I-" I begin.

The stranger claps his hand on my shoulder, hard. "The question was rhetorical. I already have the answer." He sways slightly. I decide he's about to launch into a Corellian Rum fueled speech. Suddenly, I wish I had somewhere else to be, but I don't. I decide to suffer through whatever he says. Maybe he'll explain all this.

"Folks don't want the answer to be handed to them," the stranger decides. "They're too content moping around and drinking the tavern dry. If the answer to their little problems are so easily found, then they have no reason to wallow in the self pity that they love so much."

That statement hits a little too close to home, but I brush it aside. I haven't been pitying myself, I've been . . . reflecting. Finally I ask, perhaps a little too bitterly, "And what makes you an expert?"

"They don't call me Dax the wise, for nothing."

Somehow, I'm pretty sure no one calls him that, but before I can say anything he adds, "It's all a paradox, Skywalker. Wanting an answer, but getting an answer only makes things more confusing. Explain that. Ya can't. Everything is a paradox."

About this time, I realize that this conversation is getting no where. "Like drunk and wise," I state.

Dax looks back at me, with a raised eyebrow.

A smirk crosses my face. "Ironic, right?"

Dax laughs, "Right enough. You have a sharp mind, you will survive."

I'm a jedi, or I had thought I was. I had thought I could hide my emotions, but apparently I can't. My expression must give away my confusion. Dax shakes his head, and taking a swig of his rum he says, somberly, "I told you. You have to go."

"Between the shadows," I finish his statement. "That doesn't even make sense-"

"Didn't I just tell you that nothing makes sense? That it's all just twisted quirks of fate?"

"Whatever," I say calmly, rising from the bar. I toss a few coins on the counter and begin to move toward the exit. Even though, I'm not sure what I should do now, I don't want stay here any longer.

Stepping out of the cantina, a cool breeze hits me. I draw a deep breath and shake my head, deciding to forget about all that Dax has said.

Suddenly, I sense a presence behind me. With my hand tightly gripping the hilt of my lightsaber, I turn to find Dax standing behind me.

"Far too tense, boy," the old man scolds. "Ease up, Skywalker, not everyone's out to kill you."

By now, I'm annoyed and not interested in the philosophical musings of a stranger. I just want simple answers. "How do you know me?"

"Well it's about time you asked," Dax says. "A savvy man would have asked me that first, instead of trying to translate my cryptic advice. Did you really just now think to ask how I know you?"

He falls silence, but I'm not in a patient mood. "Well?"

Dax shrugs, "Another day, I will explain everything. That story is not important now. You have a journey ahead of you and lingering here will not make your task any easier."

"I don't even know what you're talking about," I say, frustrated.

"Quit asking questions, questions are just sand in the wind. Questions are worth nothing and just plain irritating. Now go."

"Where?" I ask.

"You know where."


	6. Journey Begins

_Journey Begins_

I roll over on to my side and blink my eyes open. Sunlight streams in through the window. Thank the Force for cooling units. Though rooms furnished with their own temperature devices cost more and I'm low on credits, I had decided to spend one last night in comfort. Besides, as of this moment, I'm not really sure when I'll get to sleep again. Stretching, I push that thought aside and look out the window. It's already mid-morning and without the cooling units, the heat would have been suffocating in this small room.

I sit up and push the white sheets aside. I move to the edge of the bed and set my feet on the floor. With a sigh, I run my hands through my hair. My mechanical hand feels stiff, and despite that it's been apart of me for a tenday now, it still feels foreign. I hold the hand before my face, studying it for a moment. I flex my fingers and wrist, hearing the faint sounds of gears and motors.

Looking down at my hand, I'm reminded of the time I spent on the medical frigate. I think back to Leia, and I feel a pang of guilt. I should have told her I was leaving. Even if I thought she was going to try and stop me, she deserved to know. I wonder if she's worried. I wonder is she found Han. I hope she's safe. I've considered returning, but I can't, not yet. I'm sure she'll be alright. She can take care of herself.

Shaking my head, I rise, knowing that I can't put this off anymore.

I had spent the night at the local inn, because I know better than to set out into the desert in the dark of night. Dressing and packing my things, I find the lightsaber that I've finally finished. I had made adjustments last night, after my run in with Dax. I had decided to make sure my weapon is ready, in case the next stranger isn't as friendly.

Finally dressed and packed, I leave the inn and set out in the heat of the day. I walk into the pub, considering this to be a good place to start.

It's morning, but the place still has patrons. Not as many are here now as in the evenings, but there are still plenty of scum that, being low on "business", have nothing better to do than sit around drinking. I take a seat in the back of the cantina, hoping that I can gather my thoughts.

I barely sit down, and when I look up, I find a woman standing before me. She's dressed in a simple gray dress, which looks worn. The collar and the end of the sleeves are frayed and the material, though thick and sturdy, is rough. Her boots are dirty and scuffed. In contrast to her clothes, her long brown hair is brushed out smooth and neat, and her brown eyes are alert and focused. Her appearance vaguely reminds me of Leia or the picture of my mother. Either way, the familiarity isn't comforting, more like disconcerting.

"Morning, Skywalker," she says kindly, handing me a plate of food. "Dax," she says gesturing to the plate. "He said to make sure you have a good breakfast. Something about you having a journey ahead of you."

_Great another stranger who knows everything about me. I look back at her, doing my best to hide my annoyance. "Really?" I ask dryly. "I don't suppose he told you anything else I should know."_

She shakes her head. "No."

I turn to my attention to the food. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice her take a seat across from me.

I look back at her, trying to look patient, but I'm not really in the mood for company.

"Listen," she says. "To save you from the mistake you made last night, my name is Lina. I know about you because of Dax, and you're welcome for breakfast."

"Thanks," I say, half-sincere and half-obligated. "Dax didn't give anymore directions?"

Lina inclines her head, looking at me thoughtfully. "He said you knew where to go."

"I do, but-"

"Then there isn't anymore to be said. This is your journey, and if someone holds you hand, guiding you the whole way, you won't learn to trust your own faith."

_Faith in what? I shake my head, refusing to ask this question out loud. While most of Mos Eisley is filled with thugs and lowlifes, there are a few like this. Hopefuls. Despite how dark things get around them, they always seem to think that things will get better. No doubt this Lina has big dreams for herself, like I used to. She probably wants to get off this rock and find something better. I wish I could tell her that in this age there is no where that is safe or good. You will always have to struggle and fight. You can't look for perfection, just strive for your own peace. Even a city in the clouds has its hell._

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I sit on top of the dune, watching the suns set in the distance. There is nothing for miles, at least nothing in the way of permanent settlements.

Several meters behind me is the shelter I've set up. Nothing fancy, just a tent and blankets next to the bag of supplies. I hear a whistle behind me. Artoo. I had him retrieved from the hanger, since I'm not sure how long I'll be on this journey.

Despite that it's usually best to travel over this terrain without droids, I can't leave Artoo with the ship any longer. A good astromech droid is hard to find, and getting one for free is an opportunity no thug would pass up. I look back toward the land speeder. Artoo's next to it, whistling excitedly about something. I don't know when he'll realize that without C3PO I can't understand what he's saying.

Rising, I go and join him next to the speeder, looking over the craft. After a few moments, I notice it, a leak in the engine. Kicking the speeder, I turn away. Returning to the edge of the dune, I sit down. I won't deal with this now. I want to meditate, escape from this for just a while. Maybe I can find the guidance that I so badly need somewhere in the force.

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Night in the desert is cold. Pulling the blanket more tightly around myself, I try to find sleep. Artoo whistles something quietly. "Save you're power, Artoo." I reply. "I doubt you'll be able to recharge off the speeder's battery."

Artoo whistles, sounding annoyed, but after a few moments, I hear him power down. I'm not sure if the speeder can be fixed, and if Artoo doesn't conserve power, I may find myself dragging a broken down droid across the dunes.

Rolling over again, I settle against the soft floor of the tent. I'll give the desert one thing, it's a lot more comfortable to sleep on sand than rocks. At last sleep makes it difficult for me to keep my eyes open. Dozing off, I finally find peace but not for long.

A strange dream takes hold of my mind. Something terrible is hunting me. It's drawing closer and closer. Some dark and wretched thing growls in the night, and suddenly it seems to find me. There is a loud roar, and pain rips through me.

I sit up with a start in a cold sweat. Breathing rapidly, I try to steady my heart. _It was just a dream,_ I scold myself. _It was just-_

That same haunting roar echoes over the dunes. It was no dream.


End file.
